


Maid, Nurse and Confidant

by makingitwork



Series: Peter/Stiles [13]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Caring Stiles, M/M, Nurse Stiles, PWP, Sick Peter, injured sheriff, pck mother stiles, sick sheriff, stiles in a maids outfit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 11:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5625130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is there to take care of everyone</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maid, Nurse and Confidant

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by;
> 
> PandoraSinclair who said 'got Werewolf flu and Stiles plays nurse (pluspoints if he's in costume, that little shit)' i'm a sucker for plus points ;)
> 
> I know this is a little short ;(

‘Dad, please,’ Stiles insists, shooting his father with a stern glare to make him stay on the couch. ‘You got _shot._ You can’t work for months, so could you just sit down and not move? Or I’m gonna get Melissa to keep you in the hospital.’ He’s only sixteen, but he’s waggling a stern finger, and Peter hides his amused grin behind a cough. John sees right through it. ‘I’ll make you something to eat. What would you like?’

John can’t help but shift excitedly at the thought of Stiles making him something. Stiles is a good cook, a little clumsy and he requires coaxing to wash up, but he can make delicious meals. ‘How about your world famous meat pasta? With shrimp?’

Stiles opens his mouth to reprimand his dad for asking for something that could hurt his cholesterol, but lets him, off and bounds to the kitchen. The Sheriff is laid over the sofa, tucked in with a blanket Stiles got him, and a bullet wound just under his rib. Some sports show is playing on the television, and Peter watches the Sheriff with interest

‘What do you want, Peter?’ John grumbles, and Peter just laughs

‘Nothing, nothing. Just admiring the domesticity of this scene.’

‘Hale.’ The Sheriff pinches the bridge of his nose ‘all I have to say is that you’re giving me a headache and Stiles will have you out of this house in the time is takes me to blink.’

Peter gritted his teeth, knowing the older man was right. They settled into a comfortable silence until Stiles came back with the food, and a large glass of orange juice, and fluttered around his dad, asking if he needed anything, doting on him, and if Peter had to readjust himself a few times, well at least no one noticed. Stiles decided to run to the store to grab his dad’s favourite type of ice cream, and John sighed as soon as he was out of the door.

‘I have spoken to Ben, Peter. I know what you like. I know what wolves like. They like it when their mates-‘ he grimaced ‘-are possessive, or doting, or caring, or dress to impress. I know that the only reason you’re here is to watch Stiles act like a nurse.’

He didn’t sound angry, just mildly bothered. Peter responded coolly with ‘I’m also here to see my mate. I like being in the same room as him.’

John sighed, massaging his temples ‘just don’t tell him, will you, Hale? Otherwise he’ll just blush a whole lot and stop taking care of me.’

Peter laughed.

…

…

…

Stiles was six, but he was patient and therapeutic as Peter sat in the bathtub as a giant wolf, Stiles gently rubbing him with soap and hair lotions, bubbles forming all around him. Stiles was wearing his swimming trunks, pressing kisses onto Peter’s snout and scratching behind his ears as he took care of him.

‘’m gonna make you the shiniest, prettiest wolf in the whole land, Wolfie,’ Stiles giggled, and Peter thumped his tail to make a splash, and licked up the side of Stiles’ face. ‘And then I’ll give you some food, and I’ll dry you, and…’ he frowned, before his chubby little fingers were opening Peter’s mouth, the wolf barked affronted, but let his mate manhandle him to reveal the sharp teeth ‘we should brush your teeth. Doctor Baxter says clean teeth are happy teeth.’

Peter grimaces at the taste of fluoride.

Stiles dries him, feeds him, and grooms him happily, and Peter knows this is heaven. By the end, he has a tangle free, glossy coat, clean teeth, a full stomach and a mate hugging him tightly. Stiles pets him happily until he falls asleep on the floor. Peter just nips the back of Stiles’ shirt and hauls the boy up by the neck the way lionesses do their cubs, and set him on the bed, covering him with a blanket, and sleeping beside him.

Claudia rolls her eyes at all the hair in the bathtub, but cleans it out without complaint.

…

…

…

‘I like your apartment!’ Stiles calls from the kitchen, but Peter can’t see him, bed stricken and sick. It’s rare for a were-wolf to get sick, but it happens, and they don’t last for too long, but he’s pretty incapable of doing anything for himself. And that’s why his seventeen year old mate is pottering around his apartment ‘we should spend more time here, I mean that is a view. And look at this kitchen! Granite counter tops! That’s insane! Where are you even getting all your money? I’ve never seen you work a day in your life!’

Peter can smell the lamb before he hears the clank of the oven openly. It smells _delicious._ And Stiles has left it a little raw and bloody just the way Peter likes it. But when Stiles comes in, it’s not the food that has Peter’s attention. It’s Stiles’ little get up.

A French maid outfit.

And fuck.

Peter curses his illness to all hell from stopping his body from reacting the way it should. But then he also thanks it. Because Stiles is seventeen. Seventeen. Seventeen- he has to remember that. But oh god, the way the puffy skirt cut off just above the knees, the long lean legs, the elegant black heels, the silk against pale skin and the tiny white apron. It cuts off just over his shoulder in elegant little frills and when he finally makes his way to Stiles’ face, he just meets a smug look.

‘Ben said you’d find this totally hot.’

‘Brat.’

Stiles just laughs, coming in, and setting the tray down beside Peter, taking out a knife and fork and feeding his mate happily. Peter eyes him between mouthfuls- delicious mouthfuls- ‘where did you even get that outfit?’

‘Never you mind.’ Stiles grinned ‘it’s totally not as if this has been hiding in my closet for months just waiting for an opportune moment.’

‘You little devil.’

‘I’ve got one of those too,’ Stiles whispers hotly, and Peter chokes to Stiles’ laughter. After he’s done, he’s feeling a little better, warmer, and Stiles holds up his head and lets him sip some water, and clears everything away. He comes back into the room, looking nervous for the first time ‘I know you’re going to say no, but I’m gonna ask anyway, any chance you’ll let me blow you?’ Peter groans, tipping his head back against the pillows. Stiles steps forward eagerly ‘I’m only a month away from eighteen! And it’s not sex sex, it’s just a blow job- you’re not forcing me! I want too-‘

‘Stiles.’ And Peter curses god because he deserves a freaking medal for his self restraint ‘I _can’t.’_

Stiles doesn’t seem too hurt, he nods understandingly ‘I figured you’d say that.’ He sighs, sounding very put upon, but then he hands over his phone and Peter frowns ‘go on the videos.’ He offers, leaving some lube and some tissues, before he goes into the living room, and the sound of the television gives Peter some privacy.

He should never have clicked on videos.

There are three, and the advertising picture of each one has a very naked Stiles.

Peter isn’t a saint.

The first one is Stiles jacking off, head tipped back in his bedroom, face flushed and by the end of it, Peter’s hard and leaking, and has his cock out, the second video makes Peter groan out loud. It’s Stiles, fucking himself with the dildo Peter bought him, it isn’t very big, but it’s enough to make gorgeous sloppy sounds, and Stiles is whispering Peter’s name, and Peter’s knot forms, he squeezes it tightly. And the third is Stiles lavishing the dildo with his beautiful, cock-sucking lips

Peter comes with a cry and Stiles calls from the living room

‘Would’ve been better with the real thing!’

Peter rolls his eyes ‘brat.’ He pants.

**Author's Note:**

> prompt and comment prompt and comment
> 
> tis as simple as pie ;)
> 
> PS I love it when you guys pick a bit you liked and quote it in your comments *swoons*


End file.
